The Last Gig
by Moondial2
Summary: This is my second attempt at fiction based on a KX song. I want to thank everyone for their suggestions. I especially want to thank Jerry Gaskill who wrote the song "Six Broken Soldiers" I used an an inspiration. Mr. Gaskill was kind enough to give me his permission.


The Next Gig

It was Rayne's turn to drive from last night's gig in Syracuse, NY to the next in Newark, NJ. The four piece band, Shattered Pain, had been on the road for only three weeks with very limited rehearsals. So far most people thought they sounded like shit but Rayne preferred the term "raw."

The band started out in his brother's basement, stitched together with some used instruments and scratched out lyrics written mostly by Rayne, who also played guitar, and the drummer, Jerry Suthersby, his brother's best friend. The rest of the line up consisted of Rayne's brother, Hector, on bass and a sixteen year old kid they dubbed Alexander the Stowaway because he just showed up one day. Fortunately, Alex had a decent singing voice so they let him stay. Like most bands they had hopes of making it big. Dreams of being discovered in some dive bar kept them fueled between places along with junk food and whatever else their spare change could buy. It didn't happen in Syracuse and it might not happen in Newark but they were determined to keep trying. So now it was Rayne's turn to drive while the rest of the gang slept through the rain and the bright lights of the oncoming cars.

It has always amazed him how all dive bars were alike. Same smell, dirty floors, and bad sound systems. This one was no different. He enters and looks around for the best place to set up their equipment, finding in one corner what might be considered a stage. Knowing it will have to do he looks for his mates before going to talk to the bartender. Surprisingly, the guys are nowhere to be seen. He figures they are doing what most bands do before a performance and after being on the road all day, taking a piss. He approaches the dark eyed bartender who more or less confirms his suspicions by giving him a message. "Hey, your buddies wanted me to tell you that they are not ready yet. You just have to wait and they will be with you shortly." Rayne just nods at the guy who is busy wiping down glasses and orders a whiskey. Just another night waiting for his friends to stop fucking around and get down to business. It can't take them that long to take a piss.

For once the whiskey is good enough for him to want another glass. He signals for a refill and reaches for his wallet to pay for it but as he pats his pockets he can't seem find it. The bartender understands the situation. "Listen dude. If you have no cash, I suggest you pay for the booze by keeping my patrons entertained while you wait for the rest of your friends." He points to Rayne's guitar and the tiny stage in the corner. Knowing he doesn't have much of a choice, Rayne grabs his guitar, a bar stool and heads that way. He feels incredibly uncomfortable in front of an audience without his band mates.

Considering none of their songs were made just to be played on guitar, he searches his mind for some alternative. For a moment he can only sit there and strum to the boos of the crowd and the consternation of the bartender but then his fingers take on a life of their own. He builds upon simplicity by layering chords until the crowd settles down and listens. Soon, words follow.

"I never knew the direction my life was leading

Until I closed my eyes and pictured your face.

I never knew what I was meant to be

Until you defined me with your love.

Now lonely roads keep from your side

And all I want to do is to see you again."

In his mind Rayne can picture his last girlfriend and how angry she was when he told her his plans for being on the road. He didn't realize how much he missed her until now. His song garners a small round of applause from the audience. Taking a sip of whiskey, he takes time to scan the bar's patrons. Most people appear to not be staying long, getting a drink, paying and leaving. At the back of the bar are a group of soldiers still dressed in their uniforms getting quite drunk but they look like they have made themselves at home. Across from them is a group of what appear to be modern day vikings dressed in leather and carrying various kinds of weapons, including one with a pistol he is carelessly twirling. Obviously there is no such thing as security in this place. The strangest thing are the individuals who come in and appear to be lost but the wait staff treat them like anyone else, serving them food and drink then taking their money. Rayne swears that he has even seen children enter by themselves. These are treated with great kindness with someone drying their tears and leading them out a door behind the bar.

His mind tries to absorb all of this, the bartender directs him to continue playing. Picking up his guitar once again, the same magic happens. Music comes unbidden to his throat and fingers.

"From the time I was young

I searched for something I could never find

The acceptance of those around me

And a certain peace of mind.

Blinded by the light of those who surrounded me

I lost myself somewhere along the way.

Now I drive aimlessly through darkness

When I once shown in the light of day."

Once again his song, that seems like a confession, is met with applause. He sings a few more but starts getting tired of the attention, getting tired of waiting. Signally the bartender that he is done, he gets up from his stool and places his guitar back in it's case. The bartender just nods. "You don't have much longer to wait." Sure enough, his band mates come barging through the front down carrying their instruments. Rayne is confused. Surely they have been some where in the building this whole time but he watches as his brother comes up to him and slaps him on his back. "Hey little Brother, good to see you again. Hope you haven't been waiting for too long?" Before Rayne can answer the guys start digging through their pockets for loose change. The bartender shakes his head. "No need to pay guys, your friend has already paid for you." The rest of the band members each thank Rayne for his efforts and head towards the door behind the bar. The bartender signals for Rayne to follow. For the first time Rayne sees the name of the dive he has walked into, "Charon." The owner/bartender opens the door with his skeletal hands and ushers the band through it. On the other side is a bright, shining light and the thunder of the last audience Shattered Pain will play for.

The End

Based on the song

"Six Broken Soldiers" by Jerry Gaskill

"fluently the parrot speaks  
six languages not known to men  
a sixpence and a quarter  
as the audience he scans ..."


End file.
